We don't talk out of the house! That was dad's words. Everytime she did this while we were growing up. Every time she used to take us in her car, or on a train, or even on foot. Every time we went to school exhausted, dirty, homework not done. Every time we were reprimanded by teachers for being absent, being late or being lethargic in class. We don't talk out of the house. I wonder if they ever bought the vague excuses of a ten year old? To them, all I was, was the naughty, disobedient kid with the silver spoon. I did ok I suppose, I got by. But sometimes I wonder what I would have become had I not been a parental child, being a mother not only to my younger siblings, but to my mother as well.
My childhood memories are filled with images I'd rather forget. Thinking about it brings on feelings of terror, sadness and a feeling of total and utter hopelessness. I had no one looking out for me really. Educators? No. I wasn't allowed to tell. Friends? No. I wasn't allowed to tell. Parents? Please, I was the parent. There was always my grandma's house. The only place in the world I felt safe because I knew she wouldn't let her near us in that state. It also helped that my army of aunts were there most of the time as well, and one thing about our family, say what you want about them, but they protected us kids like a pack of wolves.
As a child, I remember my mother smelling like beer, passed out or vomitting, being aggressive...I was afraid of her, scared and helpless. I remember dodgy motel rooms, train stations, franticly looking for a phonebooth to call my dad, dirty houses in the wrong parts of town where so-called extended "family" stayed, I remember doing my best not to cry...not when I was in these situations and certainly not at school when I was yelled at for being tardy. I couldn't help it though, when we eventually found our way home and mom got a few smacks for doing it again. But we don't talk out of the house...
I remember broken glass, the smell of petrol, tyres and an over revved clutch. I remember waking up with a dashboard on my lap and a tree between my legs. I remember cutting my foot on the debris in the road after she skipped the red light and being the only reason why they didn't put her in jail. But we don't talk out of the house...
The memories didn't fade but the fear grew. It still haunts me to this day, as nothing's gotten better. Sometimes I think it's getting worse. The only difference is the mechanical death trap she doesn't have any more and the last ounce of self respect she might have had is long gone with it.
Yes, I'm older now, and I can still look out for myself, but I've gotten to a point where I just can't be the passenger on her ride of destruction any more. I cannot clean up her messes any more, I cannot be her parent any more. I cannot sacrifice my health, my emotional well-being, my home, my hopes of one day having my own family or my sanity any more and I cannot live in the shadow of a family's denial anymore. I just can't. I'm done!
So there, I've done it...I spoke out of the house and I broke the silence. I know this is going to create a storm in a teacup in my little realm, but I guess everyone has their limits, even me, and I think it's about time...For those who choose to judge me, go ahead, feel free, you're welcome to take my problems!
Noun: An intense feeling of deep affection: "their love for their country".
Verb: Feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone): "do you love me?”
Synonyms: Noun. affection - fondness - darling - passion Verb. like - be fond of - fancy - adore
“Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.” Aristotle
I’ve always been a fan of love. Romantic love, friendship love, passionate love, love for material things, making love – You name it. Growing older I had my highs and lows, been on top of the world, got my heart shattered into a million little pieces, broke some hearts along the way, patched it up again, learning all the little facets of love. I can with all honesty say it’s been one hell of a ride
!
For a while I vowed to never fall in love again. I did not want the drama and the bullshit and the headaches and clichés and everything that accompanied love in general, I did not want it. The clichés made me sick to my stomach, the adorable couples on Facebook had me cringing and I did not understand why people would willingly walk into a death-trap, smiling, like a goat high on bath salts. I labelled them stupid, idiotic, weaklings…
So, a while ago, high on my egotistical power trip of anti-love ruling my little fucked up reality and gloating in my ignorance, I met a girl. Yes, I met the girl that turned it all around for me.
Now, a couple of months later, happy as can be with Miss Magical – I get it. I totally get it. I get the soppy love songs, the Hollywood clichés, the sweet nothings… I was the idiot.
I once had to write an essay on “What is Love”. Boy oh boy did I fuck that up. Knowing what I know now it’s not all moonlight and roses. Far from it. You want to know what true love is?
It’s when you look at her and you see a reflection of your own soul. You can feel what she feels even if you are separated by distance. It’s when you are totally hooked on her and it stays that way. You feel comfortable around each other. It’s when you can fight like you're married, and by that I mean tell her to fuck-off and even throw the kitchen sink at each other, going the whole nine yards but still stick around. Love is war. It’s when you can talk for hours like best friends, the topic is irrelevant, just talk and laugh and have the best time ever. Love is when all the lust calms down and you can still flirt like first loves and actually bloom from it. Love is craving for your partner like a deranged hooker craves for crack. Love is a million little things coming together; I can go on for hours and annoy anyone willing to listen.
For you ladies out there wanting to give up on your quest for love, don’t; miracles happen when you least expect it. Nurture it, fight for it, give your all and love your lady like nothing else matters… She’s worth it.
Today I was supposed to post the second part of the “Who’s
in my bed” photoshoot. But I’m running seriously low on sleep, motivation and
time and I don’t want to deliver an inferior product to our loyal followers, so
I decided to write this article instead…
So the past few days, my better half was on a business trip
on the other side of the country. No biggie right? Wrong! To me, maybe to both
of us, this was the worst kind of torture any human being could ever be
subjected to, and with good reasons.
The first reason why I say this, is because since we started
dating, we hadn’t until now, spent a single day apart. We love spending time
together, whether we’re out and about at clubs, visiting friends, eating out,
going to family, we always do these things together. Occasionally we’ll also
meet up for lunch during the week or she’ll pop into my office in between
seeing clients or on her way back to her office and when we can, we travel to
work in one vehicle just to squeeze in an extra hour or so in each other’s
company. So when she broke the news, we were both seriously unimpressed.
So the trip starts. We arrive at OR Tambo international
airport before the crack of dawn, literally minutes before check-in closes and
as Murphy would have it, the queue at the check-in counter is a mile and a half
long. Needless to say, there wasn’t time for a proper goodbye as she had to
rush through the gates to board the plane.
From there things seemed to be going ok, as the first half
of her trip went relatively smoothly and she was on her way to her second
destination, a four hour drive away. This is where things really started
heading south. Her hotel was in the sticks and even though it’s part of a large
chain of overpriced hotels, by the sound of things, I wouldn’t even let my dog
stay there. No hot water to take a shower, bad food, and bedlinen that gave her
a rash was only the beginning. And, being in the middle of nowhere, she had
virtually no cellular reception, which meant we couldn’t even say goodnight.
The next day, it just got worse. What was supposed to be an
overnight stay, turned in to 3 solid days of hell. Her boss had called and told
her the client wanted her back at destination 1 and she must cancel her flight
back home that night, immediately. This meant another 4 hour drive in a rental
car with a loose, clanking exhaust, another day 1200km away from home and
another night sleeping alone.
Back in Jo’burg, all the stress my wifey was going through,
started to take it’s toll on me. Mentally, physically and emotionally. She was
in a strange place she did not know, she only packed for one night, and no
provisions were made for an extended stay and the fact that I could do nothing
to make things better for her and hearing her voice tremble as she broke down
crying drove me insane. I had never felt so powerless in my life. I also couldn’t
sleep, from the day before she left until the evening she got back, and I didn’t
have much of an appetite. I also felt physically ill, headaches and nausea
reigned supreme, and I missed her. A lot. To the point where I drove my bestie
mad!
Then, the inevitable happened…sheer frustration, lack of
sleep and pining for the woman I love, resulted in a fight. Something neither
of us needed at that point, but as human beings we always seem to take our
heartache out on the people closest to us. This made things even worse because
how are we supposed to have a decent conversation and a “I’m sorry” hug when we’re
so far apart? And I’m sorry, but a phonecall or text message just doesn’t cut
it!
The next day she did what needed to be done and waited at
the airport for the first available flight back home. The first flight back
home, as our luck would have it, was the last flight of the day, at 8pm, which
meant she would land back on familiar turf around 10pm. She spent a total of 6
hours at the airport just wanting to come home. A kind old man even offered to
swap tickets with her as he was on an earlier flight, but the airline refused.
Disaster struck one final time. She was robbed at the
airport as well and her purse, with all her cards and identification documents
was taken and it was more than likely that she wouldn’t be able to board.
Luckily airport security caught the thieves in the bathroom as they were going
through their snatchings and almost all of wifey’s belongings were recovered
along with the possessions of 3 other ladies. They didn’t want to return it at
first because they wanted to use it as evidence against the criminals, who are
believed to be members of a gang.
Now time was running out, and there was a chance that she
might miss her check-in time again. But she was escourted by security, through
the gates onto the plane and she was finally heading home. But not before
getting into an altercation with an air hostess over what luggage she’s allowed
to carry on board.
Finally back on home soil, things started getting better.
Even though she looked like a neglected orphan, eyes swollen from crying at the
sheer trauma of the trip when I picked her up, we were beyond ecstatic to see
each other and before either of us could get a word out, I was bombarded with
kisses and cuddles and at that point, if I didn’t have ears, my smile would
have gone right around my head. I was overjoyed to have her back in my arms,
back in our home and back where she feels comfortable and safe and I can
honestly say that there’s no better feeling in this world than your soulmate
falling asleep and waking up in your arms.
You know, Murphy is a sad son-of-a-bitch…as it happens she
might need to fly back tonight and in a few weeks it’s my turn as I’m headed
off on a business trip of my own. I nearly didn’t survive it this time around,
I doubt I will next time…
(I listened to this song whenever I missed my wifey and it seems to have helped, I love it and thought it suited the situation perfectly!)
Sunette Bridges, South African singer, and daughter of the
late Afrikaans music icon, Bles Bridges, is constantly in hot water because of
rantings on her social media platforms. She’s in the press every now and then
because of her alleged right wing views and racist remarks but this time she allegedly
chose to have a go at the gay community for fighting for our rights.
Bridges allegedly went on to say:
“Nou
gaan ek seker behoorlik op die stapel gebrand word, maar DIE besigeheid is vir
my Grieks...
Dis erg genoeg dat jy NIE deesdae mag verklaar jy is TROTS BLANK nie, want dan
is jy mos 'n Rassis, maar "nevermaaind" daai gedoente... Jy mag ook
nie verklaar jy is TROTS Hetroseksueel nie... Ons het nie eers geweet ons is
veronderstel om dit te verklaar nie! ...ons "is" maar net...
Nou word ons elke liewe dag gekonfronteer met nog iemand wat MOET bieg hy is
TROTS Homoseksueel!
Slaat my met 'n nat vis! Ons verstaan!!!! Ons mag nie oordeel nie... Ons moet
dit aanvaar as deel van "hoe dit is"... ons moet weet daar is vlae en
organisasies en optogte en betogings vir hierdie regte...
...maar my liewe GENADE! Hoekom dan so tekere gaan daaroor! Sien jy heeldag
mense wat optogte te reël om te verklaar dat hulle "Straight" is?
Reik ons al wat verklaring is uit om die wêreld se aandag daarop te vestig?
Laat ontwerp ons vlae en hou optogte?
Aggeneeman! As jy NIE geoordeel wil word op grond van jou
"Slaapkamersake" nie, hou tog op om dit in onse keelgatte af te
druk!!!! Sx”
What this
basically means is that she doesn’t get why gay people feel the need to shove
their sexuality down her throat with our colorful flags and peaceful protests
and she doesn’t get why we have to protest for our rights. Unfortunately, when
I wanted to take a screenshot of her statement, she’d already removed it. But I
do still feel the need to set her straight (Pardon the pun).
Firstly,
congratulations on being heterosexual! No one said that you cannot be proud of
that fact, I would be too. You can be openly affectionate towards the person
you love in any country in the world and no one will ever persecute you for it!
Further, you can easily adopt any child you like without anyone questioning
what goes on in your bedroom AND you can marry whoever you like and the government,
your place of employment, financial service providers and Joe public will
recognise it without giving it a second thought.
Secondly,
we are PROUDLY homosexual, because people like you, with your narrow minded
bigotry, CAN and WILL not force us to live closetet lives in the shadows any
more. Unlike you, we have fought a hard battle for decades to have the freedom
to love openly and every now and then, we win battles to have the same BASIC
freedoms as you straight folk do, and we are PROUD of that fact.
Lastly, the
whole point of our flag and our protests are that people NOT judge us, in
contradiction to your last statement. No one is forcing anything down your
throat, least of all the gay community, because in case you haven’t heard, the
boys don’t like girls, and the girls don’t have anything to shove down your
throat. If everyone else kept their noses out of our bedrooms, the need for protest
marches and rights organisations would be eradicated. But while lesbians are
being raped, gay men beaten up and transgender individuals being mutilated just
for being who they are, we WILL unite as one and make our voices heard by any
means necessary. The same goes for our rights to marry the people we love and
to be parents.
By your own
admission on numerous occasions, our country is in crisis. And believe it or
not, people like you, that only spread messages of intolerance makes the
situation worse. It’s such a shame that someone who speaks out against violence
such as farm murders and who donates copies of her albums so the proceeds may
go to charity, feels the need to satisfy your audience with hate speech, racism
and open bigotry. Go google yourself. Your career as a musician, and even your
famous legacy is being overshadowed by the ugliness you choose to spit out on
your social media platforms. If you don’t like what we do and the concept is “greek”
to you, keep it to yourself and leave us in peace, we have done you no harm and we're not going anywhere any time soon.
Heather Hogan, senior editor of www.afterellen.com let us republish this article she wrote:
I’ve mentioned before that I was born and bred as a Southern Baptist, raised to walk along the narrow path of the most conservative interpretations of the Bible and vote within the guidelines set forth by the Jerry Falwells and James Dobsons of the world. Luckily, I was also born with a good set of critical thinking genes and a hunger for knowledge, so in my grown-up life, I was able to walk away from organized Christianity — which I believe has entered into a mutual hijacking situation with the Republican party, the goal of which is to consolidate power by exploiting ignorance and fear — and reconcile my Biblical knowledge with my life experiences with my intrinsic value system of mercy and goodness.
Funny thing about spending all those years in church, though: I know more about the Bible than I will ever know about anything else. I studied it like it was my job for two decades of my life.
I often have run-ins with former buddies from church, all of whom are really wonderful people on the inside, but most of whom do not have a particularly thorough or enlightened understanding of politics or history or religion. What usually happens is they do some Bible verse-slinging at me, and I patiently try to explain where they’ve been duped by their church or their politicians or their own ingrained prejudices.
Today, I realized it would probably be an even better idea if I just made a reference post so I can point people here and save myself some typing time. Hopefully, you guys will be able to use this as a resource too.
High gloss A5 prints of the photos featured in this spread are available for R200-00 ex p&p all proceeds go towards the Angel Joubert winter charity drive in aid of Dibanani. Please contact modernmissjones@hotmail.com
